


Shelter

by sami_jo



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dark Inquisitor (Dragon Age), M/M, Passing mention of Hawke/Dorian, Past Anders/Hawke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 19:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19302694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sami_jo/pseuds/sami_jo
Summary: Cullen has watched as Dorian survives one blow after another, quietly pining for him. Now that he has finally worked up the courage to make some sort of move he may be too late.





	1. The Space Between

**Author's Note:**

> The youngest Trevelyan was not morally fit to lead pigs to slaughter let alone be Inquisitor, yet there he was, gleefully destroying lives and hurting people because he could. 
> 
> This piece is what happens when musing about the impacts of a truly evil Inquisitor meets with a very vivid dream and an experiment with writing flashbacks. It remains to be seen if it holds together as anything more than an experiment gone horribly awry. As always, feedback is welcome.

Cullen absently stroked the rich fabric in his hands. Thick grey wool the color of storm clouds with deep wine red lining and embroidery that resembled flames along the edges. Storm grey to match his eyes. Red the color of the wine that so often stained his lips and the flames that so easily obeyed him. Cullen could feel the quiet hum of magic in the enchantments Dagna had woven into the fabric for him. Warmth. Protection.

How did he find himself relying on a gift to say what he could not?

Cold wind cut through his thoughts. The sound of Satinalia celebrations in the courtyard drifted towards him, muted by their recent losses, but celebrating being alive all the same.

 

_His face in profile, backlit by the fire, laughing at something one of the Chargers said. Seemingly relaxed the night before the battle, their presence and apparent calm bolstering the nerves of the novice troops around them._

_"I regret many things from my time with Anders, but I've never once wished for less of it. Whatever excuse you're giving yourself for not telling him how you feel is bullshit." Hawke's voice rumbled quietly near him._

_"I...I don't know what you're talking about." was all he had managed to stammer out._

_"Yes, you do. He loves you and he deserves the man you can be."_

_"But the two of you..."_

_"are place holders. A warm pleasant body to keep darker thoughts at bay. No one, no matter how wonderful, can fill the space of a dead man, and I am not you."_

 

Filling the space of a dead man. He wasn't certain whether Dorian or Varric had been more devastated when they fell back out of the rift at Adamant without Hawke.

He'd been terrified when he heard Hawke was at Skyhold. Varric seemed to have somehow forgiven him for all that happened in Kirkwall, but his relationship with Hawke had always been one of bare tolerance and grudging respect. His constant sarcasm had grated on Cullen. The confident strut and condescending teasing over his rule-bound existence and innocence had been an affront. It had chafed against him like hot wet wool on a heat rash until the awful day he saw through it.

 

_"Anders was responsible for the explosion. He has been...dealt with. Don't let Meredith destroy the Circle and my sister over the mistake of another."_

_The forced calm of his voice. Agony in his eyes. Regardless of whether they approved, no one had questioned his devotion to Anders. The man had clearly made him happy. No one questioned his devotion to his one remaining family member either. He'd tasked Cullen with looking out for her when she'd been taken into the Circle with a gravity that had hurt._

_They fought side by side, defeated Meredith. Afterward he had watched Hawke slip away from the group, pain radiating from him._

 

When Cassandra had come looking for Hawke he'd told her he suspected the man wouldn't survive his grief.

It shouldn't have surprised Cullen that Dorian and Hawke got along so well. He had seen the pain hiding behind the witty banter of both now that he knew to look for it, recognized the rare genuine smiles and those moments when the mask fell. Genuine concern in those smokey eyes over his constant headaches had been the first crack in his walls.

 

_"You're off lyrium, aren't you." It wasn't so much a question as a statement of fact._

_Cullen's first reaction had been to snap at him defensively, but the harsh words died on his lips when he saw the concern painted plainly across that usually impassive face. He had closed his eyes to the sight even as it tightened something painfully in his heart. "I haven't taken it since Kirkwall. After everything, I just..." his hands dropped helplessly as he struggled to find the right words and force them past his lips,"I didn't want anything to do with that life any longer."_

_"I presume you know the dangers, not that using it in the first place is good for your health."_

_"Of course I do. It's why it made such an excellent leash for Templars. Cassandra knew when she brought me on to command the Inquisition troops. She will replace me if my fitness for duty becomes an issue." His tone was strident, defensive._

_Dorian snapped back, "Do you really think I am questioning your fitness for duty, Commander? I'm concerned for your health. You're as pale as a ghost, you’ve had black circles under your eyes for weeks from lack of sleep, you suffer from nose bleeds and headaches almost constantly and you've been delaying your moves until you think I'm looking away from the chessboard so that I won't see your hands shake."_

_"Thank you for that helpful rundown of my sorry state." Cullen snarled. The hurt he caused was covered quickly, but he didn't miss it._

_"Forgive me. I thought was expressing concern for a friend. Clearly I was mistaken." He started to rise from his chair._

_"Wait, please." Cullen sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "I apologize. I shouldn't have snapped.” A short pause to collect himself allowed him to continue less sharply, “No one else knows. I will endure the withdrawls."_

_"Even if it kills you?" he said softly._

_"The alternative is slowly losing who I am and being tethered to a man I am not proud of. I believed in the Order, trusted my Commander and the result..." He looked away. The rumors had surely reached the other man by now. "I would rather die as myself trying to make amends for my mistakes." He was staring at his hands, unable to face whatever he would see in the other man's eyes._

_"You can do more than merely endure. I know you are good at it, but life was meant to be lived, not simply endured."_

_A brief touch to his hand brought his eyes up to meet Dorian’s. The understanding and concern? compassion? something more tender? in his eyes made Cullen’s heart twist painfully once again. With a ghost of a smirk the look was gone and the tone turned teasing as he made an obviously illegal move._

_“Oooh, Commander, I do believe I will win this one. Check!”_

 

A subdued shout of gaity from the courtyard pulled him from his memories. Voices all too obviously absent and cheer too forced left the celebration twanging away like an untuned lute. Laughter from the youngest Trevelyan rang out. Would they ever be forgiven for giving so much power to that angry man-child? He, Cassandra, Lelianna, even Josephine had seen the consequences of following one who was unfit to lead. How had they been so wrong? Then again, the first signs of how ill-suited he was hadn’t appeared until after they were at Skyhold.

 

_Dorian’s face a study in controlled fury. Agony etched in his eyes for any with a mind to see it._

_“Should I be watching for you to try a blood ritual to fix me, Inquisitor? I’m certain my beloved father would be happy to share his plans with you. Perhaps you would prefer to allow him to kidnap me and spirit me back to Quarnius?”_

_“I would never engage in that disgusting sort of magic and I would never deliberately interact with one of your kind. Every noble knows what their responsibilities are, though, and the fact that you refused to do yours does not improve my opinion of you.”_

_“Yes, living a lie is a much more noble thing to do. Tell me, will whatever unfortunate young woman your parents find to marry you know you prefer men as much as I do, or will you conveniently leave that for her to discover after she is bound to you? You were certainly eager enough to try to get in my pants.”_

 

Max had been convinced to walk away by the intervention of Mother Giselle, but had capped the day by sitting in judgement of Alexius and sentencing him to death. He was staring right at Dorian as he issued his judgement and there was no doubt who it was intended to punish.

Thereafter there had been a pattern of Dorian returning from missions more exhausted than the rest of the inner circle and more likely to be nursing injuries and that had only gotten worse with time. He was too stubborn and too genuinely committed to the cause to leave, too proud to ask for help or even admit there was an issue. Hawke had been the one to suggest having him lead soldiers on missions requiring more finesse and firepower than the average platoon could manage, but that didn’t absolutely require the presence of the Inquisitor. Bull had hopped in to offer the Chargers. It seemed an odd thing for him to do, but Max seemed to like having Bull as a meat shield and he wanted more firepower and experience with his company on some of the missions they were taking.

It had worked. Dorian had thrived amongst them, clearly accepted as he was for who he was. The Inquisitor couldn’t argue with their successes, at least that had been the thought.

 

_The Inquisitor strutted through the portcullis seemingly proud of himself. The elven agent, Gatt, was hot on his heels discussing what assistance the Qun would be able to provide. The Iron Bull shuffled alongside them mechanically, face devoid of any emotion. The rest of the inner circle followed, looking shaken. All except Dorian. Dorian looked equal parts homicidal and fragile, moving stiffly as if it was taking all his self control to force himself to move at all._

_Ravens had brought word days ahead of their arrival, but people were crowded around the courtyard hoping to see some survivors._

_There were none._

_Dorian had turned as soon as he reached the courtyard and climbed the stairs towards Cullen’s office. He had motioned for Cullen to follow him and locked the office doors as soon as they were inside._

_“That was nothing but a deliberate massacre. He knew it was a set up. We had been warned by our scouts. He could have saved them. Bull could have saved them. They chose this. Bull is Hissrad. We knew this but we let ourselves forget. The Inquisitor...it was a deliberate massacre.” _

_He had been cold, almost completely devoid of emotion as if afraid of what would happen if that dam broke. Seeing the fury and pain in his eyes, Cullen knew why._

 

The Inquisitor had chafed at the restrictions placed on him after that. They had been discussing the need to do something for months. There was little doubt that Max would extract his revenge at some point, but he needed the Inquisition to wield power. They needed his mark. Cassandra had made it clear that she was not beyond making him tranquil and using him for the mark if he didn’t cooperate. For now they had an uneasy truce. He kept the trappings of power. Cassandra made all decisions in the field and the advisors made them for the Inquisition. Max was attempting to maneuver against them, but he had made too many enemies, failed to value his troops lives one too many times, and was trying to outplay Lelianna and Josephine at The Game.

Cullen snorted to himself. It certainly took a great deal of confidence to think that he could outmaneuver the Nightingale herself.

Cullen shook himself from his musings and looked back down at the cloak in his hands.

“Ice cold to numb the pain. Ice piercing. Hurting. Make it stop. No one cares. Better without me.”

Cullen jumped at the sudden appearance of the odd spirit calling himself Cole.

“You know I do not want you in my head.” He said sharply.

“Not you. Him. Alone. Hurting. Freezing the pain. Drowning the pain. I try to help but I only hurt. He needs you.”

“Him? Wait, Cole, do you mean Dorian?”

“Yes, him. He needs _you_.”


	2. Thaw

The sounds of merriment drifted up to his darkened corner on the battlements. He leaned carelessly against the crumbling stone, his fifth flask of wine clutched almost empty in one hand and the letter he had memorized in the other. 

“I regret to inform you that Felix Alexius has died…”

Tears poured down his face as he swigged the last of the flask. It tipped over the side of the uneven ledge he tried to place it on. He didn’t hear it land in the dark abyss below. He picked up his final flask and fumbled with the cork. He could no longer taste the wine, but a vindictive part of him hoped the Inquisitor would miss the six flasks of his favorite Antivan red even if no one was likely to miss the man who drank them.

He heard the creak of the rickety ladder then a crack behind him and the unmistakable grumble of the Commander as his foot went through one of the more rotten rungs. He didn’t think he could face those golden eyes that seemed to see through him. He’d miss those eyes and that voice, if one could miss things after death. Better though. Everything he loved crumbled to dust. He didn’t want that for the Commander. For Cullen. 

“Dorian?”

He swayed a bit as a particularly vicious gust of icy wind cut through his alcoholic haze and made him shiver.

“Maker, Dorian, how long have you been up here? You must be freezing!”

He didn’t trust himself to speak. Wasn’t certain he could at this point anyway. He waved a hand and shook his head and the world began to tilt. Suddenly he was wrapped in warmth. A soft cloak enveloped him. Strong arms wrapped around him. A gloved hand gently pried the flask from him.

“I think, perhaps, you’ve had enough for now.”

Dorian shook his head violently. It wasn’t too much. He could still feel. If only he hadn’t been such a coward it would be over by now. 

He didn’t realize he was babbling all this out loud until he heard the quiet gasp near his ear and the arms tightened around him more firmly. He felt himself being gently pulled back from the edge and turned around to face Cullen. He buried his face in the fur of his coat, hands fisting the tunic the Commander had donned instead of his usual armor. The tears pouring down his face had already made the fur damp.

“I’m so sorry, Dorian. I should have seen how much you were hurting.” 

“Just let me go. No one will care and I just can’t. I can’t  _ do _ this.”

Hands gently but firmly cupped his face.  

“Look at me.” The command was quiet and gentle, but a command all the same. His eyes pinched tight. “Dorian, _ look at me _ .”

He opened his eyes and was caught in the intensity of Cullen’s gaze. Moonlight lit the Commander’s face, reflecting in his eyes and throwing the fine stress lines and scars on his handsome face into stark contrast. Those golden eyes searched his face as the expression softened. 

“I failed you and I am so sorry. I don’t deserve you, but never,  _ ever _ think that you would not be missed or that you are not wanted.”

“How did you fail me?”

“You are here drinking yourself into a stupor preparing to, what? Disappear into the night? Throw yourself from the battlements?” He winced as Cullen nailed his intentions and closed his eyes against the censure he expected to see. One hand gently pulled his face back against Cullen’s neck while the other wrapped around to hold him close. “Did you really believe that no one would miss you?”

“My father,” he huffed out a pained laugh, “I’m sure all of Skyhold knows what my father thinks of me. Alexius and Hawke are dead. The Chargers,” a painful lump formed in his throat at the memory of them being cut down and he felt a gentle squeeze as he swallowed a sob and continued in a hoarse whisper, “and now Felix is gone.”

“I’m still here.” Strong arms tightened around him once more and he felt a gentle kiss pressed to the side of his head. Dorian couldn’t hold back the sobs any longer. He was vaguely aware of Cullen gently rubbing his back and rocking him as he finally let go.

The tidal wave of grief and pain eventually ran out and he slowly came back to himself. He was acutely aware of the strong arms that still patiently held him. It was everything he wanted, and nothing he was allowed to have. With a hiccuping sigh he began to pull back.

“Thank you for putting up with that display. What you must think of me now.”

He was pulled gently back against that strong chest. “I think you are remarkable and strong and one of the finest men I know. I think I am better for knowing you. I think you are handsome and intelligent and talented. I think I should have told you long ago that I love you.”

Time stopped. He could feel the tension in Cullen’s body as the man held stock still after the admission, not even breathing. He looked up, eyes wide in shock to search the Commander’s face for deceit.

Head shaking as he tried to pull away, “Don’t. You can’t. I can’t. I can’t take this game.”

Cullen winced but held his gaze as he gently stroked Dorian’s cheek with his thumb, “No game, Dorian. You know me better than that.”

Cullen leaned forward slowly, tilting his head to the side, holding Dorian loosely enough that he could pull back if he wished, and gently laid a kiss on his lips. Cullen pulled back to search his face then leaned to kiss him again, still gently but with far more passion bubbling up behind it. 

Dorian heard himself make a strangled noise then give in, pulling their bodies tightly together and deepening the kiss. 

The need to breathe finally ended the kiss, foreheads pressed together, both men panting. Cullen was still stroking Dorian’s cheek gently and he pulled them apart to look into his eyes.

“I’ve wanted to do that since you fell into my arms at Haven’s gates.”

“I did not fall into your arms!”

Cullen’s chuckle was more felt than heard as he pulled Dorian close again. “Yes, you did. Then you turned around and fought like a one man army despite your exhaustion. That’s when I fell in love with you.”

“Why did you never say anything?”

“I have so little to offer you. I didn’t deserve you, and then you and Hawke…” Dorian felt the sigh and the deep breath before he could continue, “you and Hawke were, whatever you were. He deserved someone like you, and you deserve someone who can be what you need.” He ended at barely more than a whisper, barely concealed pain lacing through his words.

“You are an idiot.” Dorian squeezed him tightly when he tried to respond. “You are an idiot because all I wanted was you.”

They stood just holding one another until another particularly nasty gust of wind triggered Dorian’s shivers again.

“Let’s get you someplace warm.” 

Dorian sighed and reluctantly pulled back. “I suppose we should before there is talk of you being corrupted by the evil Magister.”

A fierce kiss interrupted his train of thought. “I am not ashamed of you and I will not hide how I feel any longer. I am a private man and I would prefer not to be fodder for gossip, but I am not sorry there is something for them to gossip about.”

A spark of hope dared blossom in his chest.

“Now, let’s go back to my rooms and get you warm and you can tell me about Felix.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> With the exception of the relationships between Dorian and Hawke and Dorian and Cullen, this is largely cannon compliant. There is an official comic that centers around Dorian leading the Chargers to clear out Venatori in an obviously less messed up world state. I ran with the notion that he could easily have been tasked with leading them on other missions and would, therefore, have become even closer to them. 
> 
> Where this diverges from cannon is in how the advisors and Cassandra would respond to an Inquisitor who abused his power. Most of the inner circle will leave in one way or another if the Inquisitor goes too far, but those four don't ever say much about it. I realize it is a function of allowing the player to choice, but not intervening seemed wildly out of character for all of them. Thus my bit of cannon divergence.


End file.
